the world so close (only halfway to it)
Title: the world so close (only halfway to it)
Rating: PG
Characters: Lisa, Ben, (kind of) Dean
Summary: Dean always finished what he started-except for them.
Warnings: spoilers for episode 6.14
A/N: I was seriously dissatisfied with the kind of halfhearted effort to end the Braeden storyline, so out came this.
***********
Lisa closes the door behind Dean and looks around her living room. It's smaller without him, the shadows stretching longer.
You're never going to fill me in, whispers the empty space he left on her chair. His fingerprints are on her refrigerator, on the half-empty beer dripping onto her counter. On the last box of unpacked kitchen utensils. For some reason she had hung onto it, left it unopened; like he would come back to finish what he started.
Dean always finished what he started. Everything except this thing with her and her son. She doesn't know if they'll ever be done.
"Mom?" Ben says, looking in at her. "Please don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you, baby," she tells him, looking at the door. An engine revs outside.
"Do you think he's never coming back?" Ben wonders, and for a second he's a little boy again, peering out the window waiting for his hero in a shining black classic.
Lisa sees the Dean-shape out of the corner of her eye, the slouched hollow space on her couch. Hears the rush of pouring liquid, smells whisky.
Dean's not anywhere near done with them yet.
"There's pizza in the freezer," she replies, answering without answering. Dissatisfied, Ben trudges up the stairs. He'll be there all night, dreaming his might-have-beens.
The phone rings-she picks up. For a wild second she allows herself to hope.
"Lisa? It's Matt," her latest boyfriend drawls. It sounds loud. A girl laughs somewhere nearby. "I'm working the late shift, can't make it for our date. I'm sorry, babe."
The late Miller shift, maybe. "Okay," she says with a smile he can't see, "We can reschedule."
He hangs up on her. She thinks about green eyes and a warm bed and tries to remember what it felt like, being loved.
Lisa crosses to the kitchen drawer, gets a pair of scissors. Looks at the unopened box.
She puts the scissors back.
Maybe tomorrow morning.
Rating: PG
Characters: Lisa, Ben, (kind of) Dean
Summary: Dean always finished what he started-except for them.
Warnings: spoilers for episode 6.14
A/N: I was seriously dissatisfied with the kind of halfhearted effort to end the Braeden storyline, so out came this.
***********
Lisa closes the door behind Dean and looks around her living room. It's smaller without him, the shadows stretching longer.
You're never going to fill me in, whispers the empty space he left on her chair. His fingerprints are on her refrigerator, on the half-empty beer dripping onto her counter. On the last box of unpacked kitchen utensils. For some reason she had hung onto it, left it unopened; like he would come back to finish what he started.
Dean always finished what he started. Everything except this thing with her and her son. She doesn't know if they'll ever be done.
"Mom?" Ben says, looking in at her. "Please don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you, baby," she tells him, looking at the door. An engine revs outside.
"Do you think he's never coming back?" Ben wonders, and for a second he's a little boy again, peering out the window waiting for his hero in a shining black classic.
Lisa sees the Dean-shape out of the corner of her eye, the slouched hollow space on her couch. Hears the rush of pouring liquid, smells whisky.
Dean's not anywhere near done with them yet.
"There's pizza in the freezer," she replies, answering without answering. Dissatisfied, Ben trudges up the stairs. He'll be there all night, dreaming his might-have-beens.
The phone rings-she picks up. For a wild second she allows herself to hope.
"Lisa? It's Matt," her latest boyfriend drawls. It sounds loud. A girl laughs somewhere nearby. "I'm working the late shift, can't make it for our date. I'm sorry, babe."
The late Miller shift, maybe. "Okay," she says with a smile he can't see, "We can reschedule."
He hangs up on her. She thinks about green eyes and a warm bed and tries to remember what it felt like, being loved.
Lisa crosses to the kitchen drawer, gets a pair of scissors. Looks at the unopened box.
She puts the scissors back.
Maybe tomorrow morning.